COVID Birthday Swap Pt. 02

Mark's hand reached down and stroked her muscular calf and then slid the hem of her long dress up until the peach fabric bunched around her waist like flower petals, exposing her panties. Tara's skin tingled in the cool air.

"Ready birthday girl?" Mark asked.

"As I'll ever be," Tara said.

Mark smacked her peach satin panties once playfully and then again in 3 quick strokes. Tara giggled and he paused before delivering two harder slaps that stung slightly, sending heat echoing down to her knees.

"Warmed up now?" Mark asked

"I think so," Tara said, not entirely sure what he meant.

* * *

"Good," Mark said. He leaned over, hooked a finger on both sides of her bikini panties and shoved them down to her knees. He could see faint pink skin where he had been compared to the paleness of the curve of her butt at the tops of her thighs. He was growing uncomfortably hard against the stiff fabric of his jeans, and had to reach in to rearrange .

Mark stood between her thighs and bent to kiss the center of the lowest spot on her lower back, sending a shudder through her, and causing her muscles to twitch involuntarily. He paused to stroke the curve with the back of his fingers and then kissed the dimple above each cheek.

He looked down appreciatively. Kelly was right. Tara had a world-class ass.

Tara sighed, relaxing in as he trailed more kisses along her back and stroked her warm bottom.

Then the kisses trailed down the crack of her ass that he was suddenly holding open. He dipped his head for a quick lick of her clit, before he moved back up to lick her pussy and then kissed her pink rosebud.

He started to run his fingers down the inside of her arm and held her left hand, almost a caress. But then he gently bent her elbow, and placed it against her lower back and asked her to bend the other one and hold her wrists.

"Can you stay in that position?" Mark asked.

Tara hesitated a moment, then her heard her whisper, "Yes."

* * *

Mark turned to her exposed bottom and resumed the spanking, each slap stung a bit, spreading warmth, but not pain.

Tara's stomach clenched as her blood flow and awareness centered on the area previously covered by her panties and she felt the growing wetness between her legs start to escape down her right thigh.

He noticed and put his hand down to her now soaking pussy. "Oh! You're so wet from this. Oh my."

And he sat down on the chair, grabbed her from the table, threw her over his lap so her naked ass was fully on display and spanked it hard.

"Hey!" Tara said, flipping over suddenly to sit up on his lap.

"You don't like that?"

"No, I don't."

"Well your pussy seems to disagree," he said, slapping her bottom again as she started to stand up and then he pulled her into a kiss.

Tara kissed him back, landing back on his lap, squirming as her clit dragged against the rough fabric of his jeans and his tongue danced in her mouth.

She rocked her hips, digging her clit into his thigh, needing the pleasure to balance the pain.

He rested one hand on her cheek that was on fire while the other explored her pussy with his fingers.

"Tara, you are dripping."

She looked down seeing the wet spot on his jeans and clenched against the touch of his fingers on her pussy.

Mark seemed to notice the muscle clench or may have taken the slight movement as a sign to stop - for now. He went to the kitchen and retrieved a tin from one of the bags.

"Break time," he said, taking her hands and guiding her back to lay bent against the table.

"You're done breaking me?" Tara asked.

"Just starting to. A change of pace, my dear?"

Mark unzipped her dress and Tara lifted and wiggled against the table to he could take it off and fold it over one of the dining chairs.

Her ass was on fire.

She had to admit to herself that she liked the mix of sensations of heat and cool and pulsing at her core still waiting for release. Somehow the fire matched the rest of what her body was feeling now.

Mark pulled scooped her waves of auburn hair, twisted it gently and pooled it over her left shoulder, giving him better access to her back.

Tara glanced behind her when she heard the sound of the tin opening and saw him take out what looked like a bar of soap and rubbed it down the length of her back in one stroke. She felt the solid turn into what felt almost like a liquid and she smelled citrus.

"Mmmm, heavenly - what is that?" Tara asked, as his hands spread the bar down every inch of her back.

"Massage bar - oil but solid until it meets the warmth of your skin," Mark said.

He worked the oil along the length of her back and then start kneading the muscles, giving her a skilled and adept massage. She moaned softly, feeling the muscles fighting to keep their tension, then yielding to him.

He worked his way from the top of her shoulders releasing several knots that had surprisingly developed during the pandemic, then down her back doing the same thing, digging circles with his thumbs on either side of her spine.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned.

He kept on moving down until he reached her lower back and also started to massage her burning ass.

Gosh, it felt good. And then he suddenly slipped his heavily oiled finger into her ass all the way in.

She jumped. "Oh fuck!"

It reminded her of her virginity days.

He moved it in and out fucking her ass as he put his other hand on her clit.

"Relax, you are experiencing sensations. I'm not going to put my cock in your ass. Enjoy."

He continued to finger fuck her ass and rub her clit until she started to dig into the table trying to cum.

"Not yet, baby."

* * *

"Come," Mark said, helping her from the table to stand in front of a high bar stool. He positioned the suede back of the stool against the high counter for some support.

"Come here and facing me," he said.

He eyes glanced down at the small triangle of auburn hair mostly above the slit of her pussy. He stroked it gently with the back of his fingers, and then reached up to guide her chin to his for a kiss.

The lace of her strapless bra, her only remaining article of clothing, caught against his shirt and he reached around to unclasp it and let it fall to the carpet. He trailed his fingers from her back around to cup her breasts letting his thumb stroke her nipples. Finally after way too many months this felt delicious, holding the weight of her tits in his hand. He bent down to kiss a V-shaped scattering of freckles between them, more proof she was really a redhead.

He had seen Tara's tits and rosy nipples during a game on the Zoom call almost two month ago, but the camera didn't capture how high they sat on her chest - or the sensitivity as Tara gasped and squirmed as he tightened his grip moving to her highly erect nipples.

Mark kissed her forehead then neck before moving again to her mouth. Tara's nipples brushed the fabric of his shirt and she must have decided to even things up a bit as she grabbed the hem of his shirt to drag it over his head.

Her hands trailed over his chest and then down from his shoulders to his arms, giving him goose bumps from the light touch. She murmuring something that sounded like approval, as she leaned over to kiss the indent where he shoulder curved into his bicep and then his shoulder followed by more kisses across his chest to his neck.

He unbuttoned his jeans, pushed them and his briefs down, and stepped out. His hard cock bounced against his taunt abs as he stood back up, stepped toward her and opened his arms for a hug.

* * *

Mark's cock was thick, the head was purplish and mushroom shaped already slick with precum she saw in quick glimpse before he hugged her, pressing it against her stomach.

"That will work quite well, very well actually," Tara thought. Mark was smaller than Michael, who was so huge he was hard to deal with at times. It had been a couple years since she had seen a more normal sized guy in person, and she reached forward to grab his shaft, stroking it.

She closed her eyes to just feel the moment, rather than fast-forwarding ahead.

He pulled back to kiss her neck and hover near her ear, the warm air causing another shudder against him.

"Sensitive?" Mark asked.

"Very," she said.

"It's wonderful," he said, nuzzling his chin against her and then pulled back to kiss her lips, darting his tongue against hers.

Tara felt like she was swirling in a sea of turquoise waves, the tentative. His gentle kisses were such a contrast from moments ago. She felt muscle tension building as she melted the two images, and kissed him back more fervently, wanting more, wanting release.

She opened her eyes to take in his smooth chest that tapered to his narrower waist pushed against hers, his hard cock pressed again between them. Tara ran her nails down Mark's back and around his hips, grabbing his cock, envisioning how it would feel inside her. It had been too long, and she wanted this. Now.

"Please," Tara said, tilting her hips to slide her wet pussy along the length of his cock.

"Come here, onto me," Mark said. He took a step back to sit on the bar stool and pulled her toward him, encouraging her to straddle his lap with her feet on the lowest rungs of the stool.

Mark then had perfect access to her breasts as she stood above him. He grasped one widely in his mouth and bit down slightly.

Her hips jerk forward from the sensation and her building need for him. Mark moved his hands down to hold them and position them over his cock, which was pointing up at her as she lowered herself, savoring the sensation as he pressed into her inch by inch until her inner thighs crushed against his outer thighs.

The heat emanating from her still slightly splotchy bottom to the core of her was beyond anything she had ever felt. The sting on the outside as it touched Mark's legs swirled with a delicious caress inside as she pressed her hips against his cock.

Tara stretched her legs to raise herself, bringing him almost out of her and then quickly thrust back down to grind against him into her deepest point, his thighs now becoming slick from her.

She half stood again and again, sinking quickly each time. Mark held her hips, but otherwise left her in control. On the next stroke down to his lap a moan escape her lips, she couldn't last too many more of these slow deep thrusts.

Mark slid his hands from her hips to grab her ass and pull her toward him.

Tara straightened her legs, pulling away from his hands. With only the head of his cock still in Tara bent her legs drawing him in and out just an inch.

She was torturing him and herself with the slight, delicate strokes just against his mushroom tip. By then Mark was pulling her hips to thrust back in all the way.

For a few moments, Tara's competitive side kicked in, taking this as a challenge to straighten her legs pushing away from him. Her legs were strong, but she realized probably no match for his arms, and she didn't want them to be - not really.

No, she really needed him to fill her and to feel him rocking against that delicious bundle of nerves, so she bent her knees and let him thrust back against that spot again and again.

Tara pulled away, and then dropped suddenly, thrusting all of him into her deeply as her thighs collided against his with a thwack. She moaned and rocked against him as she felt the first contractions of her orgasm squeeze against his cock, kneading him into his own climax filling her with his hot seed in seven or eight powerful convulsions - she lost count.

Tara sighed, and rested her cheek against Mark's forehead and hugged him.

Their breathing synchronized and they stayed intertwined enjoying the sensation after too many months without touch. His cum started leaking out of her onto his hard thigh.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Tara's thighs shook as she climbed off Mark and off the barstool. She poured them each tall glasses of water and went to the bathroom to clean up a bit in the sink, and slip on a short green silk robe.

When Tara returned, Mark was wearing his jeans, but no shirt, His delicious arms and chest standing out even more in contrast. He had lit 3 candles on a cake covered in strawberries and whipped cream.

"Happy Birthday!" he said. "Make a wish."

Tara looked down at the cake, suddenly feeling awkward now that the urgency to have him in her was quenched, and the margaritas had worn off. She closed her eyes and blew, wishing for a vaccine.